


The Video

by Claire, goddessofcruelty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom!Peter, D/s (Implied), M/M, Making a Porn Video, On Camera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter stops short, dead in his tracks. Because there's Chris <em>fucking</em> Argent, and while he's not drunk, he's had a few shots recently enough that Peter can smell it under the screen of cigarette smoke. The hunter's got his hand down his pants, and Peter can smell that too, must make a noise, because Chris' head, those ice blue eyes, snap his way, meet his gaze.</p><p>And Peter doesn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't for Chris to keep his eyes on the wolf, <em>and keep going</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Video

**Author's Note:**

> There was [this gifset](http://1234halefire.tumblr.com/post/88612089858/marguerite26-chris-argent-doing-porn-because), from [this video](http://tposed.tumblr.com/post/88586478722), and then this happened.
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt: Fic where Peter Hale also signs up to make a porno, because he’s bored and he’s gorgeous and he knows it. But when he walks into the makeshift studio (which is really no more than somebody’s living room) he finds that his co-star is someone very familiar. (by [Halefire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Halefire))

Peter arches a brow and double checks the address, wrinkles up his nose. Yeah, this is the place. He has no idea what possessed him to do it, but he signed a contract, and has to do at least this one. He suspects a glamour, the way that the guy kept flattering him, and telling him that he had the perfect partner in mind.

Peter sighs and steps through the doorway, and that same guy is there, and then there's this weird pink sparkle out of the corner of his eye, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. The guy claps him on the shoulder, and they go into the other room, where his partner is apparently recording his intro, and Peter stops short, dead in his tracks.

Because there's Chris _fucking_ Argent, and while he's not _drunk_ , he's had a few shots recently enough that Peter can smell it under the screen of cigarette smoke. The hunter's got his hand down his pants, and Peter can smell that too, must make a noise, because Chris' head, those ice blue eyes, snap his way, meet his gaze.

And Peter doesn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't for Chris to keep his eyes on the wolf, _and_ _keep going_.

Peter knows he should walk out, should turn around and go straight back out of the door. Because no matter how enticing Chris Argent is smelling, wrapped in a haze of smoke and whiskey and lust, he’s still an Argent, still a hunter. But Peter’s feet aren’t leading him towards the door, aren’t leading him anywhere but closer to Argent.

Argent’s cock is out now, thick and hard, his fingers jerking himself slowly. The scent of precome is heavy in the air and makes Peter lick at his lower lip, makes him want to drop to his knees and swallow Argent down.

And maybe there’s something on his face giving away exactly what he wants, because Argent just lifts his chin, voice a lazy drawl as he beckons Peter over. “Come here, Peter.”

He's sure he should have some sarcastic comeback, _something_ witty to say, but his mind is blank, and he can't think of anything but the sight before him. Before Peter really knows what he's doing, he's obeying, moving closer towards Argent, following that command.

And then there's another, Chris' deep voice quiet but firm. “Knees, boy.”

Peter automatically settles down to his knees in front of the hunter, doesn't even hesitate this time, gaze focused on the movement of Argent, no – Chris', hand on himself. (If they're going to do this, they can at least be on a first name basis.)

Peter _wants_ suddenly, and his eyes reflect it, flaring supernaturally just slightly as he looks up, resting his hands on the fabric covering the other mans' smoothly muscled thighs. Chris swipes his free thumb over the red tip peeking out from his fist, collects a few droplets of fluid, and then reaches forward slightly, and smears it across Peter's lower lip.

Peter’s tongue is darting out as soon as Chris pulls his thumb away, lapping at the precome left on his lip. A sharp pulse of arousal blooms across Peter’s senses, desire flooding the air as Chris look at him with heat in his eyes.

Leaning forward slightly, Chris cups a hand around the back of Peter’s head, guiding him forward. Chris’ touch is light enough that Peter could break it if he wanted, could pull away and sit back, leave Chris hard and wanting. But he won’t.

Peter won’t pull back because he wants this. Wants Chris, hot and heavy on his tongue. Wants to swallow Chris down until the other man has nothing else left to give.

"That’s it, Peter," Chris murmurs, as Peter’s lips open, wrapping around Chris’ cockhead as he sucks gently on the tip. "That’s my good boy."

Peter's clever tongue flickers over the head, then slides along the slit, teasing a few more droplets of precome free with a pleased rumble. The soft praise from Chris sends a spike of heat through Peter's gut, and he feels himself reacting, cock filling out where it's pressed against the couch.

He's forgotten all about the cameras, the people watching behind them. Peter's whole world has narrowed down to the taste of Chris in his mouth, and the scent of the hunter filling the air.

Peter takes a moment and then starts gradually shifting forward, moving more and more of Chris' length into the heat of his mouth, eyes wide and open as he watches the hunter's face, wanting to see him come apart.

Peter's claws just barely prick through the soft black fabric of Chris' pants, but it causes the older man to tighten his grip on the back of Peter's head in warning. Instead, it seems to encourage the werewolf, for he surges forward, pressing in until his nose is buried where Chris' scent is strongest.

Chris’ cockhead is pressing at the back of Peter’s throat, and he swallows down his gag reflex, holding himself still until the tears prick at his eyes. He stays still for another few seconds, before pulling back, feeling Chris’ nails scratch lightly across the back of his neck, shivering in response.

Chris’ dick is spit-slick, covered in Peter’s saliva, and it makes his wolf preen, seeing himself on Chris’ flesh. A beat passes until Chris’ hand tightens slightly, pulling Peter back towards his cock.

"Come on, Peter," Chris murmurs. "Take it again."

Peter lets Chris guide him back to the straining cock, taking it back into his mouth and working teeth and tongue and lips. He presses his tongue to the thick vein on the underside of Chris’ cock, smirking around the hardness as he feels Chris shiver under him. If he concentrates, he can hear Chris’ heartbeat, steady and solid and jumping each time Peter sucks or licks or flicks his tongue in just that way.

Chris’ other hand moves to Peter’s head, running his fingers through the strands until he tightens his grip, tugging Peter back. “It’s not nice to tease, Peter,” he warns, and Peter hears the underlying words. Hears the _Take it—_ and the _Finish it—_ and all the other words Chris can’t say when they have a camera trained on them.

And the reminder of why they're here in this place, why Peter's gagging himself on the hunter's cock, slaps him in the face. Because he _wants_ to tease Chris, wants to draw it out, take the older man apart and then be the one to put him back together.

But that's not meant to be. Won't ever be.

So Peter takes his opportunity while he has it, this thing that he didn't even know he wanted until now, and dives back down, moving with determination now. He moans around the length filling his mouth, feeling that pleased flutter in his chest when Chris' heartbeat spikes, and the hitch in his breath that tells the younger man that Chris is about to finish.

Peter pulls back then, the hunter's cock sliding out of his hot mouth with an obscene noise, his wolf smug at the tiny whimper of disappointment that Chris can't keep back. His hand replaces it, and Peter leans back slightly, because he's signed a contract, even if he'd forgotten for a while.

He twists _just so_ , and Chris shudders and arches, groaning as streams of his come paint Peter's face with stripes of white. The werewolf trembles in his spot on his knees, in faint echo of what's been caught onscreen as he mirrors Chris, spilling his own release in his jeans.

Chris' eyes are closed, head leaned back against the wall as he takes a few deep breaths. Peter pulls back further, hearing movements as the camera is switched off, feels a wet cloth placed in his hand. He gives himself a cursory clean-up, and then nods silently to the enthusiasm of the filmmaker.

Without saying a word, Peter slips from the room, stalks to the doorway. They'll send him a check. Or they won't, he doesn't care.

He just needs to get out of there, needs to get home, wants to lay in his bed and breathe in Chris' scent while it lasts...

“Peter.” It's murmured, soft, barely there, but he hears it over all the other noise. The werewolf stops in his tracks, not turning around, hand on the doorknob. “My house. Tonight.”

Peter turns the knob and walks out of the house.

He'll think about it.

  


**Author's Note:**

> All the good bits are from [Claire](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire).


End file.
